


Fevers and Remedies

by foodandfandoms



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: 6th or 7th year probably, AU, Agatha and Simon are JUST FRIENDS, M/M, Sickfic, Some Fluff, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-01 08:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18332273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foodandfandoms/pseuds/foodandfandoms
Summary: Baz gets sick and Simon cares for him





	Fevers and Remedies

**Author's Note:**

> I can't seem to stop writing tropes so here's a sickfic haha  
> Also naming things is really hard so that's fun  
> I know Baz can’t get sick but I couldn’t help myself  
> Hope you enjoy the fic!

Baz was sick.

There was no way of getting around it; his nose was streaming and his throat was saw, and he could barely think past the dull headache which had been growing progressively worse throughout the day. Usually he would use this time between dinner and football practice to do some work in the library, but that was out of the question today. Baz sighed as he opened the door to the room he shared with Simon Snow, knowing the other boy would be in there and would quite possibly grill him incessantly as to what he was doing back at this time.

Still, it wasn’t something that could be avoided. Baz knew the only way to get over the illness would be to rest, and that was quite hard to do in the absence of a bed. The minute he was through the door Snow’s blue eyes were on him, analysing his every move. This was easy enough to ignore considering Baz put up with it every other day of his life. It would just have been nice if he didn’t feel Snow’s watchful eyes on him constantly in a space that was supposed to allow him to unwind.

Without a word, Baz strode straight to the window and slammed it shut with an unnecessarily loud bang. He was ill enough as it was without the threat of frost bite added to the equation. He then proceeded to fling himself down onto his bed, never looking once in Snow’s direction.

“What are you doing here?” Simon demanded. Baz could practically see his glower.

“I’m so sorry, Snow, I hadn’t realized I needed permission to enter my own room. Next time, I’ll make sure to ask the Queen first.”

This made Simon grumble incoherently, unable to come up with a retort but not willing to let the subject go so soon. Baz just burrowed down into his sheets and closed his eyes against the harsh world in an attempt to quell the aching in his skull.

His temporary peace was shattered by a cough wracking its way through his body. The movement jarred his bones. His limbs felt like jelly- he wasn’t sure he could have moved if he wanted to.

“What’s wrong with you?” Baz felt a sneer break onto his face though the other boy couldn’t see it; the fact that he loved the idiot on the other side of the room did nothing to diminish how annoying he could be.

“My problem is that my roommate won’t ever shut up.” More coughing. He wished it would stop. “Care to suggest a solution?”

“I just- what did I- why are you always like this?” There is something unfamiliar in his voice, his usual anger marred with something like…hurt. Baz wasn’t sure how he felt about that. What right did Snow have to feel hurt? Why would he care what a soulless vampire thought of him?

Baz said nothing as Snow fumed, packing up his school bag and slamming the door as he left the room. Probably off to annoy Bunce or the goatherd. Not that Baz cared. He took advantage of the finally quiet room to slip off into unconsciousness, glad to go where his illness couldn’t follow.

\--

Baz was being more frustrating than normal.

Or rather, Baz was being his normal self and Simon was finding it harder to bare today, for what reason he wasn’t sure. There was just something about him that made Simon’s brain shut down. It was tiring, the constant battle between them. Usually Simon would have taken advantage of them sharing the same space to keep tabs on him, make sure he wasn’t plotting any murders, but this evening it had been too much. He had to get out.

In general, Simon had given up trying to be civil with Baz; it seemed like a waste of breath. But he had never seen the other boy ill before, and it had thrown him. Could vampires even get ill? Maybe this was all just an elaborate scheme to get Simon out of their room without breaking the anathema! He wouldn’t put it past him. He wouldn’t put anything past Baz.

Simon was still brooding over this when he reached the library where he knew Penny and Agatha would be sitting at their normal table studying. Penny’s hair was a soft violet today- she had taken to changing it every week or so this year for some reason- but Simon hardly noticed in his distracted state. He didn’t even greet them as he sat down at the only spare chair at the table, frowning at the floor.

“Is there something wrong, Simon?” Agatha questioned as the silence stretched out between them Simon looked up for the first time to meet Agatha’s enquiring gaze before looking at penny, who had one eyebrow raised in a perfect arch. Just like Baz, Simon thought. Would Simon ever have a thought that wasn’t immediately invaded by Baz?

“It’s nothing.” He wasn’t sure it was entirely believable, but they went back to their conversation anyway.

“So as I was saying, it isn’t necessarily about how you mean the words, but about the intonation and emphasis-”

“It’s BAZ,” Simon groaned, his head hitting the table with an audible thump. Penny sighed. “Sorry, Penny, I know you don’t like me to go on, but he’s just so…so-”

“Aggravating?” Agatha suggested mildly.

“YES! He’s just in there…lying down…and coughing…”

“So you’re mad at him because he’s living?” Penny seemed to be losing her patience already, which must have been a record. It was clear that nobody had the patience today. Simon decided to back down, after all, Penny hadn’t done anything wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He fought to make his voice sound calmer than he felt. “What are you guys doing?”

“Elocution. Do you want some help?”

“Always.”

So Simon sat with his two best friends and did his work, doing his best to keep his ‘ridiculous’ speculations at bay for a little while. But he knew he would have to return to the room at some point and it was getting late. It was with reluctance that his made his way back to his room a few hours later.

It was exactly as he had left it- window shut, piles of books splayed out on each desk, dark-haired boy curled tightly into a ball on his bed. He could tell Baz was sleeping by the slow, measured cadence of his breath. Good. That meant he wouldn’t have to talk to the git. He made sure to move around the room more quietly than usual in the hopes that it would stay that way. Merlin and Morgana, it was hot. He didn’t care how sick Baz was, he would never be able to sleep in the stifling heat of the room. If he was really sick then the fresh air might do him some good.

It was still early to sleep, but all the brooding had Simon more tired than usual. With the evening’s events still plaguing his thoughts, he slid into bed and closed his eyes.

\--

Nothing felt out of the ordinary at first the next day. Simon was always an early riser (mostly to get to the food at breakfast as quickly as possible), so he didn’t notice when Baz did not get out of bed. What he did notice, however, was that Baz was nowhere he was supposed to be. Not in their shared lessons, not at lunch, not out on the pitch. Simon couldn’t make sense of why this worried him so much. When he made his way back to their tower-top room, it was to a Baz whose body was wracked with tremors.

Simon stood for a moment. His brain wasn’t processing the information his eyes were giving him properly, and all he could do was stare. Then a gust of air blew through the open window causing Baz’s tremors to become more violent and Simon sprang into action. He closed the window tightly, feeling slightly guilty for being so spiteful about leaving it open.

Turning his attention to the clearly suffering boy lying on the opposite side of the room, Simon deliberated what to do. Baz never missed school. He’d even sided with the Mage briefly in attempts to keep the school open after a series of attacks in their fourth year. There was no way that any scheme or common cold would keep him out of the classroom.

Simon decided the best course of action was to wake the boy up- he had been sleeping for almost 24 hours, and he wasn’t sure that was good for anyone. He reached for his enemy’s arm and almost recoiled. It was hot to the touch despite the now-intermittent shivers. “Baz,” Simon breathed, trying to be as non-threatening as possible in case the other boy tried to attack him on awakening. Baz groaned and turned over, neither truly asleep nor awake. The vulnerability on his face caught Simon slightly off-guard. It was nice to know he didn’t always look like a provocative arsehole.

“Baz, you need to wake up. Have you even moved at all today?” Worry was beginning to gnaw at Simon’s thoughts. Disorientated Baz was not one that he recognised or knew how to deal with (not that he was any good at dealing with normal Baz). His slate eyes opened to slits and he squinted at Simon before murmuring “too bright,” and closing them again. Simon almost felt sorry for the boy as he went to close the curtains, leaving the room only dimly lit.

Baz opened his eyes more successfully this time, focusing on Simon for a moment before looking away. Simon felt the inexplicable desire to protect the pale, defenceless boy. He buried the urge.

“Are you okay, Baz?”

A slight shake of his head. “Hurts.”

“It’ll be alright…I’ll go get you some food and water, okay? Stay right here.” Simon was sure that if Baz could have scoffed at that last part, he would have. He attempted it fruitlessly nevertheless.

Simon was careful to close the door quietly as he went on his hunt for food.

\--

Snow had left. And as much as Baz had wanted to tell him to stay, he could barely move. It was for the best, he tried to tell himself; no good would come from letting Snow past his defences (any more than he already subconsciously does). Still, it had been cruel for the boy to wake him up only to leave him again not 5 minutes later.

He was just so cold, and the world too bright. Thank Merlin Snow had closed the window before he left. He wished he would come back…maybe the illness was making him soft, but he couldn’t help the neediness he could feel growing in his stomach. As time passed his mind became increasingly cloudy. It made it hard to focus, to keep thoughts straight in his mind.

Helplessness washed through the dark-haired boy- was he going to have to rely on Snow until this was over? He couldn’t imagine even getting out of bed at this point, much less making it to class. His mother would be disappointed in him.

Despite thoughts running circles around his brain, Baz had begun to drift off again by the time Snow made it back. Baz was glad for it; what reason could Snow have had for leaving him in this state? Well…other than the other boy hating him. The thought caused Baz yet more pain, this closer to his heart than his head, but he knew it had been self-inflicted through years of snide remarks and violent actions all directed at Snow.

Blue eyes met Baz’s grey ones after a moment, an abnormal amount of concern marring them. Baz closed his eyes to block out the sight. “Hey,” Snow said in a too-soft voice. “Are you hungry? I brought you some food, and water. There’s also ibuprofen for the fever. Can you swallow the tablets?” Baz only rolled onto his back in response, not bothering to reopen his eyes when Snow handed him the water and pills. Once he was done, Baz rolled away from his enemy despite all his instincts screaming at him to move closer, to clutch onto the other boy for the possibility of even a small amount of comfort. He ignored the urge.

“You’re not done yet, you have to eat something.”

“Not hungry.” He could feel the emptiness in his stomach but had no urge to fill it. The thought of eating made him feel nauseous.

“I don’t know Baz, this seems really serious, maybe I should go get the nurse…”

Baz gathered all his remaining strength and bolted onto his other side, reaching up to grab Snow’s wrist in his hand. “No!”

\--

Baz’s grip on Simon’s wrist was feeble; Simon could easily have just drawn it away and gone to get the school nurse anyway. But the panic in the grey eyes he knew so well stopped him. It hadn’t occurred to him the risk Baz would be in if he did get the nurse until that moment. Simon often forgot that not everyone knew Baz was a vampire, considering how obvious it had been to him. The idea of him being caught and thrown out of Watford filled him with a strange kind of fear. No, Simon would not get the nurse. He would do his best on his own.

Simon twisted his arm in Baz’s grip until he was holding the other boy’s hand. “Okay, okay. No nurse. Would you at least finish this cup of water?”

As Baz did as he asked (without complaint, for once in his life), Simon to the moment to really look at him. The circles under his eyes despite the hours and hours of sleep. The way his hair fell around his face, so different to how he usually kept it pristinely in place. Simon preferred it as it no was; it made Baz look less untouchable. He hadn’t let go of Baz’s hand but was enjoying the warmth and pressure it provided. He thought the look on Baz’s face said he liked it too, though the other boy would most likely never admit it.

Once he had drained the glass and put it back on the table beside him, Baz lay back down. He seemed alert one minute, lethargic the next. Simon knew he couldn’t just let him fall asleep again, at least not for a little while. He decided to take matters into his own hands (literally). Using the grasp he already had on Baz’s hand, he pulled Baz into a sitting position and plopped himself onto the bed beside him.

“What are you-ah! Get-get off my bed!” This was the liveliest Simon had seen Baz all day, so Simon counted it as a win. He was pulling feebly at hand still held in Simon’s, so he decided to let him go.

“You have to stay awake long enough for the meds to kick in so you feel better and try to eat something. You can’t just not eat for 24 hours- so I’m going to keep you awake.” Simon did not know where this new-found softness he had for the boy next to him had come from. Maybe it had been there all along. He just knew he had to do what he could to help Baz get over this. He pulled the blankets away from Baz in further attempts to break his fever; Simon was sure a body so used to being cold would not react well to the heat.

Baz seemed to have lost the will to fight Simon on this- he simply slumped back against the wall resignedly and pulled his knees closer to his chest. Simon sat and talked about nothing and everything in the hopes of distracting Baz into wakefulness. Talking wasn’t always one of Simon’s strong points, but he felt himself falling into an easy stream of consciousness. What he did not expect was for Baz’s head to fall onto his shoulder. The taller boy looked up when Simon’s speech stuttered, eyes clouded over and mostly- for once- unguarded. So Simon continued.

After a while, Baz moved from his spot on Simon’s shoulder to get the tray of food Simon had scavenged earlier from the kitchen. Simon felt a smile form on his face. He slid an arm around Baz’s shoulder in an attempt at encouragement and squeezed slightly. It made Simon feel better to know Baz wasn’t going to starve to death.

When all that was left was crumbs, Simon could feel Baz getting tired again. As promised Simon would let him sleep now that he had been properly nourished. As he went to stand, however, for the second time that night he felt a hand gripping his wrist. “Don’t go.” There was urgency laced through the words; a look in his eyes Simon could never ignore. And he didn’t know if it was the fatigue or illness or something else entirely that brought the promise of tears to the dark-haired boy’s eyes in that moment, but it was so unlike Baz that he took him in his arms and stroked his hair gently whispering “Its okay, I’m not going anywhere, I’ll stay” into his ear.

Simon lay them down gently side-by-side, still combing through his silky hair, until Simon’s head hit the pillow. Baz’ seemed to calm at the touch, so he continued the action until his roommate’s breathing fell into its familiar steady pace, and then until Simon himself eventually fell asleep (but not before he heard Baz softly whisper his name, his first name, doing strange things to hi heart).

\--

There was a boy in Baz’s bed.

It was an odd feeling to wake up with your face smushed into another person’s chest, but Snow’s familiar smell of bonfire smoke and the soap he used comforted him slightly. For the first time, Baz noticed the cross around Snow’s neck and the dull buzz it created in his brain, something he hadn’t acknowledged last night in his addled state. Though his head still throbbed dully, it was nothing like the day before. Snow was still fast asleep, arms limp and mouth slack (mouth breather). Careful not to wake him, Baz negotiated his way out of bed. He needed to think.

The shower seemed the best place. He needed to clean off the remainder of the sickness from the last couple of days. The hot water cleared his head. Don’t go, he had said. How pathetic of him. Keep it in for years and years and all it takes is one bout of sickness to spill his guts to Snow. Yet there was something liberating about the idea of Snow finally understanding that made it harder for him to regret the words that had spilt from his mouth. He wished he had more memories of what it felt like for his head to be on Snow’s shoulder than the ones from last night, tainted by the haze of his condition.

Still, little could be done. He would go back out there and act like nothing phased him, because nothing did. He had repeated it to himself until he was sure he believed it. Then, he would go down to the catacombs and drain at least half a dozen rats in an attempt to quench the thirst that had arisen during the night.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, Snow was sat up on his own bed. He had been staring off into space. Baz wondered what he was thinking about (probably nothing, if he knew Snow). He took the opportunity of Snow’s distraction to watch him undetected, before going about his daily routine, not meeting Snow’s eye’s when the boy began to talk.

“Baz, you’re okay?” He sounded relieved and slightly disbelieving, probably because of the mess Baz had been the night before.

“evidently,” Baz mocked. It made him feel himself again to make fun of Simon Snow.

Snow brushed off the snide remark as he replied, “good.” Baz met his blue eyes then, saw Simon’s sunshine grin break out on his face. Baz felt a flush rise in his cheeks despite the lack of blood.

He pulled a sneer across his face, trying to salvage some kind of animosity towards Snow, though at this point he didn’t really know why. “Shame you won’t be ‘okay’ when I finally end you.” Its needlessly harsh. Snow’s grin slipped into a slight frown.

Snow’s jumped to his feet, clenching his hands into fists. Magic was beginning to roll of him in waves like it sometimes did when he grew agitated. “Why can’t we have even a two-minute conversation?” And Baz, weak as he was only for Snow, couldn’t stand the anguish in the other boy’s eyes. He dropped his gaze and grabbed at Snow’s fist.

“You know why,” Baz breathed. “Simon.”

And then Simon kissed him.

It was as everything between them was: a battle. Simon’s mouth was hot and challenging on his own, and Baz let go. His hands found Simon’s bronze curls and wound into them. Simon’s teeth clashed against his own, and Baz let out a surprised gasp as Simon rubbed his hands under the hem of his shirt, thumbs burning circles on the bare skin of his torso.

It was over almost as soon as it started; they panted together, foreheads resting against the other. “I’m tired of fighting, Baz.” He could hear the weariness in his voice, the plain truth of it.

“What are our other options? One day we’ll have to fight, and then all this will have been for nothing.”

“‘One day’ doesn’t have to be today. And when the day finally comes, maybe we could…just…not?” The hope sparking in Simon’s eyes made it hard for Baz to argue, but his reasoning left a lot to be desired.

Baz stroked Simon’s hair out of his eyes as he said, “Is that what you’re going to tell your Mage? That we just decided we weren’t going to fight, and that’s that? Then there’s the Old Families, the war with the dark creatures, and let’s not even mention the Humdrum.” He couldn’t help the exasperation creeping into his voice.

“None of those things matter more than how we feel or what’s right. We might even be stronger against the Humdrum if we worked together. Can’t we just have 5 minutes where the world isn’t ending?”

Baz sighed. “Okay, Snow.” Because what was the point of arguing? They both knew Snow was going to win in the end, most likely just by growling his way through. But, if there was any way they could both get out alive, some way they could work things out together, Baz was going to try to find it.

“You called me Simon before.”

“No, I didn’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Let me know if you thought it was amazing or terrible, positive and negative feedback are always appreciated:)


End file.
